


I Spy with My Little Eye

by felin78



Category: Babylon 5 & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:39:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9154618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felin78/pseuds/felin78
Summary: G'kar discovers Marcus's big secret by accident.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2008/2009 as the most developed of my stories for Kel and Third Charm's "Five Ways Outed Challenge" for the Marcus/Neroon Yahoo group. 
> 
> Glossary of Minbari terms:  
> ahael--fire  
> ah--my  
> aia--heart

G'Kar spent an enjoyable hour fencing with Marcus in the sparring hall. The human Ranger had been very interested in learning more about Narn swordplay. Of course they didn't use true blades--that would have been an affront to any honorable Narn warrior. To draw a sacred blade meant blooding it before sheathing it again, and G'Kar no longer carried a sword, though he still possessed the skill to wield one. So they used training sabres with blunted tips instead. By the end of the session they both declared a truce, panting and grinning at each other, neither willing to concede the match.

G'Kar sketched a shaky bow and made his way over to the alcove near the door. Removing his artificial eye, he carefully set it down in one of the cubby holes and mentally flipped it off. The eye socket often felt itchy after he used the eye intensely. As he pulled on his breastplate, a group of laughing Rangers in standard dun-colored training robes entered the hall--Marcus's informal martial arts class. Experimental, Marcus had said earlier, with a glint in his eye. Involving the use of music as a means to achieve greater performance. Humans only, since the music had driven the Minbari and other species off. G'Kar had let the comment pass, not fully registering its meaning.

But when one of the crazy humans adjusted the aural control panel to send the most G'Quan-awful music in the universe spilling into the hall, G'Kar understood what Marcus had alluded to only too well. He took to his heels, leaving his artificial eye behind.

It was of no matter--he would go back later to reclaim it. Nothing could have persuaded him to brave that din again--what did Marcus call it? Heavy metal? What the spoo did that mean? It was hard to tell if that was what the young Ranger had actually said, he was yelling and laughing over the horrific noise, as several human males and females pulled him onto the sparring floor. The rest of the group was already starting to warm up, with vigorous and quite spectacular leaps and kicks. As impressive as the display was, G'Kar wasn’t about to risk his sensitive hearing to stay and watch. He had far more sense than that.

He headed back to his quarters for a nice sand scrub and a lounge under his infrared sun lamp.

*******

G'Kar loved his lounging den, situated nicely between his opulent sleeping area and sanitary facilities. After shucking off his outer garments, he scoured himself with thorough care, savoring the friction provided by the coarse sand that exfoliated dead and dry skin. He finished the process with fine polishing sand, then a coat of expensive _atar_ oil. Next, the sunning bed….

With a languorous sigh he basked in the delicious heat, a silken band tied snugly over his eyes. The cloth blocked out the reddish light, and as a side bonus also improved the quality of the images he received from his artificial eye, making them more vivid.

For that was another of G'Kar's favorite pastimes: spying on the station's personnel with the aid of his techno-eye. It had proved its versatility, time and time again, keeping him (albeit in a clandestine manner) abreast of the events and happenings on the station.

Flipping the ocular switch, he watched the darkness dispel to soft colors. Dim light emanated from the corner where the raised mats for hand-to-hand combat were laid. Two figures appeared to wrestle there. G'kar sighed. Such a nuisance. He couldn't tell if the horrendous noise was still on, his eye was strictly visual, which was really too bad, considering how much useful data he could gather with an auditory input. Perhaps he could obtain a small bug to use alongside his eye. The thriving black market in the bowels of the station had techno-gadgets galore…yes, he would definitely make it a point to canvass the vendors from the outer rim.…

G'kar turned his attention back to the wrestling match. Something seemed off about the movements. They lacked the controlled violence of an adversarial encounter, instead appearing smooth and rhythmic, so strange, yet so familiar.... 

In fact, it reminded him of.…

G'Kar adjusted the zoom function to get a better look.

"By G'Quan!" G'Kar sat bolt upright. Or tried to. He ended up whacking his head against the ceiling of the sunning bed and falling back, stunned. But he didn't remove the scarf from his eyes, the scene unfolding there was too riveting.

Marcus! Maddening, annoying, sand-under-the-scales Marcus…the resident virgin of Babylon 5? The butt of much cruel speculation and ribald jokes? Entwined on the mats with--G'Kar couldn't believe it--Neroon?! Prickly, hostile, bad-tempered-typical-Minbari-warrior Neroon? Who G'Kar had seen just yesterday in the hall engaged in a fierce and heated bout with Marcus? The way they had beat on each other, the deafening clang of pikes, the intimidating yells--it had looked less like a sparring match and more like a fight to the death.

This bore no resemblance to the ferocity he had recently witnessed. He had thought Marcus and Neroon rivals, life-long adversaries in the making, from the time of Delenn's promotion to _Entil'Zha_ and the terrible price Marcus had paid without hesitation.

G'Kar drew in a deep breath and closed his mouth. The heat seared his tongue.

No stranger to lovemaking, G'kar considered himself something of an expert. His exotic tastes--not to mention his prowess--were widely known. However, his current ran strictly to the female polarity of the sexual equation.

To see two males engaged in the act of mating came somewhat as a shock, only somewhat mitigated by the even bigger shock of the two being from different species--not that G'Kar was an inter-species prude, he adored sampling the rich delights of the varied and delightful alien females created by a sensual universe, but Minbari? It boggled the mind. Staid, boring, everything-has-a-ritual Minbari? Joining with an unpredictable never-know-what-they-have-planned-in-their-devious-little-minds human?

However, what they were doing did appear ritualistic. It reminded G'Kar of the stories Dr. Franklin had told him of dangerous animals that performed certain courtship niceties in order to mate. To do otherwise invited disaster, or worse, death, either by venom, claws or teeth. Yes, it was like watching two predators carefully coupling to avoid killing each other.

They both sat upright, in the crux of their fighting pikes which lay crossed on the floor. Face to face, pressed close together, Marcus straddled Neroon, their robes puddled about their waists. But the clothing couldn't hide one of Marcus's long legs hooked about Neroon's hip, or the smooth expanse of Marcus's pale flank, or the framework of his ribs. Subtly they rocked together, and Marcus's long-fingered hands kept time stroking along Neroon's jaw and along the places where the bonecrest joined bare skin.

The look on Marcus's face, shadowed with pain, held G'Kar. Such raw bliss spoke of an intimacy he had rarely seen in his long life. As for Neroon...the Minbari's dark eyes stared up into his lover's face with the single-minded intensity of a warrior on the hunt. His mouth, usually in what G'Kar always thought of as a permanent sneer, hung slightly open. No trace of wariness or arrogance there, just hunger...desire...lust.

G'Kar shook his head and eased himself from the warmth of his sunning bed. Reality never ceased to amaze him. A lustful Minbari? What an oxymoron. Almost inconceivable. Despite the evidence of his eyes, G'Kar could still scarcely believe it.

This secret liaison--how could he use it to his advantage? Beyond being grist for juicy gossip? G'Kar had never caught a Minbari in such a compromising position. As for the Ranger...the Ranger walked places dark and secret. The knowledge Marcus carried could be of use to the Narn resistance.

G'Kar absently scratched the eyebrow above his eye socket. Before he went any further down this particular line of thought, he needed his eye back.

Smiling, G'Kar pulled the scarf from his eyes and began dressing.

*******

G'Kar abandoned the thought of blackmail shortly after leaving his quarters. The thought of seeing the unlikely couple talking their way out of this compromising situation amused G'Kar to no end. The entertainment value, not to mention the distraction, was something he knew the weary battle-worn command staff would appreciate, with the possible exception of the Minbari contingent. He could just imagine the look of consternation on Delenn's face!

He therefore ended up at the sparring hall entrance, which incidentally had the triple privacy lock engaged (what a surprise), surrounded by a crowd that was growing bigger by the minute. One judicious comment to security chief Michael Garibaldi and the word-of-mouth phenomenon went into rapid effect. It was worse than a coven of Narn grandmarms who sniffed a possible match in the making.

He kept one hearing membrane tuned to the various conversations going on behind him and the other on the doorway to the training hall. No way was he going to miss the fun when the two lovers emerged, which, by the images being transmitted via his eye, wasn't going to be for some time yet.

"Great Maker! Are you sure?" Londo Mollari said from somewhere to G'Kar's left.

"Shut up--you're kidding me right?" Commander Susan Ivanova, from his right.

"Let's ask him," came Garibaldi's voice. G'Kar felt an elbow poke his side. "Hey, are they finished yet?"

"Ah yes--um, no. Wait...no, not yet."

"I could page Cole out," the security chief said with an evil snicker. "Or set off a radiation alarm. Yeah, that's a great idea! Just as he's about to com--"

"Shhh!" Susan said. "Show some respect!" G'Kar turned his head just enough to see her shoot Garibaldi a pointed look as she nodded toward Delenn and Lennier. The two Minbari stood patiently side by side, surrounded by a conspicuous pocket of space amidst the milling bodies.

"Respect?" Garibaldi gave Ivanova an incredulous look. "You're kidding me, right? They're--" his voice dropped, "they're _fucking_ in there--"

"Shut up Michael! Don't you know anything?" Ivanova jabbed Garibaldi with an index finger. "The Minbari used to have a ritual that required a witness to verify consummation of joinings--"

"Holy moley, are you shitting me? 'Verify'? You mean someone had to watch?" He glanced over at the stony-faced Minbari. "Wow, talk about performance anxiety. It's a wonder they're able to reproduce."

"I said "used to", moron." Susan gave an exaggerated sigh. "Think about it. Marcus and Neroon are in deep trouble if they didn't follow all the proper binding rituals required by Minbari tradition and law and a million other details required by the various clans and castes--"

"No eloping and getting married in Vegas?"

"Pretty much." Susan laughed. "The consequences are too severe. But just because we don't know about it doesn't mean they didn't figure out a way around the traditional conformist way of doing things. Knowing Marcus--"

"Knowing Neroon," Delenn interrupted, "he is accustomed to getting what he wants. He will have found a way. How could he risk everything? How could he be so indiscreet?"

The conversation continued, but G'Kar ignored it, turning away. The real drama would begin once the door opened. "If only I could hear," he muttered, half to himself.

"What did you say?" Garibaldi stepped up to G'Kar's left side.

"This is all very amusing but if I could hear...."

"Well, why didn't you say so? Wish I'd thought of that." Turning away, Garibaldi knelt down, pulled off the service panel to the left of the door and did something to a recessed keypad.

"Michael," Commander Ivanova said in a warning tone.

"What? We need some fun, especially after this crappy week." His hands worked deftly inside the wall. "Man, wish I'd thought of this earlier.…"

The sound of deep breathing filled the hallway. Not panting but measured rhythmic inspiration. All background chatter stopped.

Station Commander John Sheridan chose that moment to show up. "What's going on?" he asked pleasantly. "I wasn't aware of any meetings scheduled--"

"Shhh!"

"Wha--"

"Hush!" Delenn said.

"That's better," G'Kar commented to Garibaldi. Sound with pictures. Perfect.

"Please...." Marcus's voice, little more than a whisper, ghosted over the now silent crowd.

"Not yet," came the response. Neroon's voice, only without the spiky edges. He sounded darker, thicker, almost menacing.

The breathing increased in tempo, but still steady, still controlled.

G'Kar smiled. They were fast approaching the _las akar_ \--the final phase of disciplined lovemaking. Their movements became more deliberate, more purposeful.

"Now, _ah'aia_ ," Marcus said. His tone held equal parts strain and delight.

"Come to me then," Neroon growled.

A roar filled the hallway, like rushing wind, like rushing water.

A sigh passed through the assembled group, almost of relief.

"OK, Michael. Shut it off," Susan said.

"But--"

"Off. Now."

"Fine," came the grudging response. Out of the corner of his eye G'kar watched the security chief cut off the sound and replace the panel. His other eye watched Marcus and Neroon, tightly entwined, lost in a deep kiss, not just mouth to mouth, but with their entire bodies.

He smiled.

"How're they doing?" Michael asked.

"More than well," G'Kar replied.

"It sure sounded like it." Garibaldi grinned. "Hope it was worth it. Poor guys. The cat's out of the bag now. There's going to be hell to pay."

*******

The door slid open.

Marcus stood framed in the entry way, his fair skin flushed. The expression on his face was one G'Kar had overheard in a bar Down Below: "well-fucked", or as Garibaldi liked to say, "ridden hard and put away wet." The satiation in those emerald eyes was unmistakable, vivid with erotic delight. The disheveled hair and rumpled state of his sparring uniform added to the effect.

"Um, hello," he said. "Where's the fire? Or am I missing a party?"

"You tell me," Susan said, deadpan. "Apparently some kind of fire was going on inside--"

"How about a coming out party?" Michael asked.

"Or a marriage betrothal," Delenn said. She sounded none too pleased.

"Fah! What are you talking about?" Ambassador Mollari shoved his way up front. "So much drama over a natural part of life. " He clapped his hands. "We should all be drinking to celebrate another--what do you humans call this? Deflowering? Such a strange word. Yes, best wishes on your deflowering!" He raised his right hand toward Marcus as if lifting up an imaginary goblet.

"That is not the right term, Mollari," G'Kar remarked drily. "I don't believe there is a term for that process for human males."

"Earth Standard! Such an annoying language," The Centauri replied. "Well, best wishes on no longer being a virgin then!"

Neroon appeared from behind Marcus, neater and more composed. The only thing that gave him away was the sheen on his skin, and the self-satisfied expression he wore. He took one look at the crowd outside, then cooly handed Marcus one of the two collapsed denn'boks.

"A problem?" he asked, clipping his pike into place. "Is there a prohibition against sparring?"

"If you call that sparring then I'm a Centauri." G'Kar laughed. This was priceless beyond compare. He pointedly breezed past the two men and retrieved his artificial eye from the alcove. Holding it dramatically in front of him, he retraced his steps back into the hallway.

"I forgot something," he said in a casual aside to Marcus as he went past. "A little glitch made it come on." He shrugged, then slipped the device into his empty eye socket.

He watched as Marcus and Neroon exchanged a long look.

"I see," Marcus said. His flush deepened, and he smiled wistfully. "And I thought I was the master of espionage and secrets. _Touche_ G'Kar." He bowed slightly. "Next time I'll think twice before accepting an offer to fight with you. "

G'Kar bowed back. "You are more than a worthy opponent, _Anla'shok_. I wish you all joy. Or perhaps my sympathies?" He grinned and turned away as the crowd descended upon the two. He heard mentions of unicorns, questions about marriage (yes, they were joined), and several ribald comments.

Marcus and Neroon more than held their own amidst the whirlwind, despite being caught _en flagrante delicto_.

What a delicious human phase.

G'Kar chuckled to himself as he strode away.

_I spy with my little eye...._


End file.
